


Alex Puts his Best Foot Forward

by WarMageCentral



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Humour, Kinda crack-y, M/M, Miscommunication, Poor Alex - Freeform, Underage Drinking (but only in America)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4179996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarMageCentral/pseuds/WarMageCentral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your feet might be huge - like really fucking huge - but you know what’s bigger?”<br/>“Alex--”<br/>“Your heart!”<br/>“Oh my god.”</p><p>--<br/>The one where Alex gets some wires crossed and tries to assure Hank that he's loved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alex Puts his Best Foot Forward

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Hope you're having a nice day!  
> This is my first fic for this pairing and fandom and I'm a bit nervous on posting but I very much hope you enjoy it!

The party at the Xavier mansion had started off rather normally, Alex reflects. He’d just had no idea that the course of the evening’s events would change his view of the people he shared his home with in the worst way, possibly forever.

It was a Friday, and true to form the Professor had announced to the mismatched group of hapless mutants that he was leaving to meet Erik for ‘a game or two of chess’ and to not wait up. And, again true to form, none of the mismatched group of hapless mutants in question were inclined to believe a single word the Professor said.

(“Who plays chess at nine o’clock on a Friday, Charles?” Raven had demanded with a raised eyebrow and an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Only the coolest of cats such as myself.” the Professor retorted, not missing a beat and returning her smirk with an easy smile of his own.

“And do ‘cool cats’ usually play chess wearing _leather pants_?” Darwin had inquired with a faux-casual tone, giving the Professor’s outfit - suspiciously shiny pants included - an incredulous once-over.

“And eyeliner?” Sean chipped in, languidly pointing an accusatory hand at the man from where he was currently reclining in the bean bag that he’d _insisted_ be brought into the mansion ‘for chi purposes’.

The Professor had simply blanched and rushed none-too-subtly out of the room, throwing a quick “You saw nothing!” over his shoulder before slamming the front door shut behind him. It only shows the man’s good grace, Alex mused, that he didn’t use his mutation to actually make the teenagers forget everything. )

So, after waiting the obligatory ten minutes to make sure the Professor hadn’t forgotten anything he’d need to come back for - keys, wallet, condoms etc. - and had definitely left for good, everyone had set about their pre-party duties. Darwin and Hank busied themselves with setting up the mansion’s rather impressive sound system, Hank creating a playlist using his good music taste that _everyone_ was extremely surprised he had. (The first time it had been mentioned, Hank had simply shrugged and looked at the floor, probably in an attempt to hide his shy smile as he muttered “My taste is quite… eclectic” in a way that was nothing short of adorable. Wait, no, it was very short of adorable! Probably the only thing that’s short about Hank, honestly. God, he’s so tall.)

Sean was on snack duty, has been, as a rule, since he had claimed the first time round that he “really _gets_ food, you know like… _spiritually_ ” and no one has argued about it. After all, while usually spacey, Sean is actually brilliant in his own way - and it’s incredibly hard for anyone to mess up heating up frozen pizza and pouring chips into bowls. Raven and Angel set about their job of ‘power proofing’ the place, considering a bunch of rowdy mutants would be enough of a threat to expensive furniture without throwing alcohol - and whatever other substances someone (Sean) wants to include - into the mix.

Speaking of alcohol, Alex had taken that moment to head to his room to fetch the ‘secret’ stash of liquor situated at the back of his closet. It wasn’t the usual, two dollar beer kinda of fare that people their age were probably used to drinking at their high school parties. No, this was top-shelf stuff, some kind of German beer and fancy vodka with Russian on the label and even some wine, and looking at it all fills Alex with a feeling of guilt. This is because the others praise him for having been able to get a hold of all of the booze. When how it had really happened was as follows:

Alex had walked into his room, incredibly tired and frustrated after a day of mostly futile training with the suit that just didn’t seem to wanna fucking _co-operate_ dammit (not that it was Hank’s fault. No, never Hank’s fault. He was trying so hard and Alex was determined to put in his hardest efforts as well. You know, because it’s fair.). That is why Alex only sighed resignedly when he saw the Professor sitting and looking quite at home on his bed, Alex’s entire stash of cheap liquor organised neatly on the floor next to his feet. Alex simply closed his bedroom door and leaned against it, bone-tired and waiting for the lecture to be over so he could pass out already.

“I’m so disappointed, Alex. No, worse than that, I’m offended! I expected better from you, of all people.” He began, and while Alex was confused by what he meant about ‘him of all people’, he waited for the Professor to chew him out in earnest.

And he did. Just not in the way Alex was expecting.

Holding up the half-empty bottle of vodka by his right foot, Charles had looked Alex in the eye and demanded “Really, Alex? How much did this cost you, six dollars? You’d be better off drinking paint-stripper, at least that’d benefit the house at large.” Apparently not noticing Alex’s confused gaping, the Professor had set down the bottle and picked up one of the beer cans, going so far as to wince when he read the label. “Honestly Alex, you call this beer? There are squatters in Birmingham that would forgo this tripe for their own piss in a glass, there’d be flavour in that at least.” Undeterred, the professor had put the can down again and rifled through what was left of the stash, muttering ‘no, no, good grief what’s that even meant to _be_ ’ before stopping and looking Alex in the eye again. “I’m sorry Alex but no one under my roof will insult me by drinking this stuff while I have a well-stocked cellar downstairs.”

Alex, deciding to just accept the fact that this was his life now and not to question the crazy man who was offering him alcohol, grunted “You’re saying we can drink your wine?”

Charles had scoffed at that “Christ, no! However,” And here he paused to unearth two large bags filled to bursting that Alex hadn’t even noticed were behind him, “I took the liberty of replacing your ‘secret stash’,” the Professor smirked while saying the words, so Alex guessed he must have plucked them out of his mind, the bastard, “so you won’t have to disgrace the Xavier family household in such a way again.” Then, smiling brightly, Charles scooped up the lower-quality alcohol in his arms and made for Alex’s bedroom door. Before letting him through though, Alex asked “Why are you so okay with this?”

Charles had sighed at that, though not unkindly, and said simply “In my country, you’d all be old enough to drink anyway. And I thought you could all afford to blow off some steam.” Alex feels himself choke up at the sincere look in the Professor’s eyes and the kind gesture, though the effect is ruined - thankfully - by Charles squeezing past him and chirping “Make sure you have a glass of water after every drink and don’t buy drugs off anyone with the words ‘little’, ‘big’, or any allusion to weaponry in their name!” He then proceeded to sashay away and Alex had nothing to do but shake his head a bit dumbly and hide his new stash of drinks, before collapsing on top of his bed and falling asleep, on top of his covers and with his shoes still on.

So when Alex found himself in his room weeks later, bringing what was left of the booze down to the party, it was not without some shame, but also a warm feeling in his chest, and nice non-threatening one which was a welcome change to the roaring plasma that occasionally felt like it was trying to boil Alex from the inside out.

“Hey, the fun has arrived!” Darwin had announced when Alex walked into the large room, before he deadpanned “and Alex is here too.” Alex rolled his eyes at his friend but thanked him quietly when he helped Alex arrange the assortment of cans, flasks, and bottles onto the large table situated against the wall. Sean carried a number of bowls and trays - with surprising grace - from the kitchen and onto the table, declaring his offerings as “A tribute to the party gods!”

“Amen.” Hank intoned, before reaching around Sean and grabbing a whole pizza for himself. He actually made eye contact with Alex for a moment, and winked so quickly that Alex could simply have imagined it, before scurrying off with his newly-procured food, presumably heading towards the lab. It was commonplace, Alex knew, for Hank to forgo their little shindigs in favour of putting in some lab hours, especially when he was on the verge of something remarkable (which was most of the time, truth be told. Hank was brilliant. Intellectually, that is.), so Alex tried not to be too disappointed when he left. Instead he had fixed himself a drink and made to walk towards where Darwin was now lounging on one of the couches (pushed against one of the walls to leave room for ‘dancing’), but halted when he heard Raven muttering “--so rude, can you believe I wanted to go out with him?”

Intrigued, Alex had found himself backtracking and walking back to the table where Raven and Angel were conversing and piling their plates high with food. After clearing his throat both girls turned and looked expectantly at him, and Alex by way of explanation shrugged and said “I heard you talking about wanting to go out with someone..?”

Raven had looked confused for a moment, before something seemed to click and she exclaimed “Oh yeah, Hank! Yeah I had the biggest crush on him.” Raven said it so simply, like it wasn’t Very Big News to Alex. Nonplussed, she carried on, “I would have happily gone out with him until I found out about, you know…” and she trailed off, looking to Angel for confirmation, who pursed her lips and nodded kind of sadly.

“Yeah,” she agreed, “he had a lot of potential. Shame he’ll never have a girlfriend, really.”

Alex had been so confused at first, not understanding what this thing was that would be such a deal-breaker in a relationship, but was apparently common enough knowledge that they didn’t feel the need to elaborate. And then he figured it out, it could only be…

_His feet. Hs giant fucking Bozo feet._

And Alex saw red. He just couldn’t believe the hypocrisy of it all! He had to calm himself down enough so that he didn’t scream at Raven ‘You’re blue, literally fucking _blue_ and you can’t handle a guy’s feet?’ because once he became violent, even for a moment, there was no telling how long it would get him to truly stop. And no matter how angry he was at the two of them in that moment, nothing would have been worth the bloodshed.

Somehow apparently oblivious to Alex’s internal meltdown, Sean decided to float over to them, nodding his head lazily in agreement. “It even freaked me out at first, man. But once I got used to the idea and realised he wouldn’t like _, try anything_ , or anything, I don’t know it just didn’t bother me any more.” Alex couldn’t believe his ears, honestly, ‘try anything’, had Sean really thought that Hank would try to _fight_ him just because he had monkey feet? Like he was no better than an animal that can’t control the basest of urges? A beast?

Darwin, feeling neglected on the couch, had chosen that moment to approach the group and join in the conversation, smiling brightly. “Besides, seeing as Hank will never have a girlfriend, it leaves more of the ladies for us, _amiright?_ ” He then winked at Angel - who scoffed and looked vaguely disgusted - and knocked Alex playfully on the shoulder.

Alex felt sick, physically sick, he couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate. For all of their talk about being “mutant and proud”, his friends - or what Alex thought were his friends - were here openly mocking one of their own for his mutation, going as far as saying that he’ll _never_ have a girlfriend (even though the idea of Hank with another girl makes Alex feel bad inside for reasons he shan’t contemplate, ever). It’s not even like it was any mutant, this was Hank they were talking about. Sweet, smart, well-meaning Hank who’s just a huge _dork_ that wouldn’t hurt anyone. Hank whose heart would break if he could hear how their ‘friends’ were talking about him right now. Unless--

And Alex could have kicked himself because, of course, _of course_! Hank must already know what they all thought of him. That’s the real reason why Hank locked himself in his lab all the time, even during parties, he knows that each one of them secretly disapproves of him. Except Alex. Alex, who is now looking painfully back at every time he had called Hank ‘Bozo’ and ‘Bigfoot’, how Hank’s entire face had closed off completely every time he did.

Hank thinks Alex hates him, like everybody else apparently does. Hank thinks no one will ever be able to love him, just because of his mutation.

Alex is determined to prove every single one of them wrong. 

**Author's Note:**

> So there was that! (Un-beta'd as always so all mistakes are mine, sorry!)  
> The next chapter will either be up later tonight or early tomorrow, I just thought I'd put this bit up first because I can't wait to hear what you think!


End file.
